


Never Too Late

by Renai_chan



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Fae!Eggsy, Forest Sex, M/M, Off-screen torture, actual knight!Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:02:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23954278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renai_chan/pseuds/Renai_chan
Summary: Harry is the leader of the kingdom's army, an imposing knight with an austere reputation, and Eggsy is the charming fae that melts his heart.
Relationships: Harry Hart | Galahad/Gary "Eggsy" Unwin
Comments: 18
Kudos: 160





	Never Too Late

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by--of all people--George Washington. His relationship with the Marquis de Lafayette is a fic writer's dream. [Go read their story](https://www.mountvernon.org/library/digitalhistory/digital-encyclopedia/article/george-washington-and-the-marquis-de-lafayette/) and tell me I'm wrong. Washington (who was 45 when he met the Marquis) was an intimidating general who nearly all kept their distance from out of fear and respect, except, apparently, for the ebullient Marquis (19) who became a close friend. Tell me that's not a perfect Hartwin plot.
> 
> Thank you to Lelithsugar who suggested turning it into a fairytale for a more lighthearted fic or else this would have never gotten done. This is my first fic since _2018_ , can you fucking believe that? I'm a horrible author, and everybody's probably left the fandom already. Oh well.
> 
> Enjoy!

Of course the King would pull out all the stops for the triumphant return of his most favoured knight, Lord Henry Hart of Gadleigh--or Galahad the Pure as the other knights had laughingly dubbed him. The King always looked for any excuse to throw a lavish celebration where all the young maidens paraded themselves around his court for his viewing pleasure, unavailable as he were to take part with the Queen at his side. And with the most eligible of his nobles as the guest of honour, those young maidens made the extra effort to look even more remarkable to earn his favour.

His extremely unlikely favour, as it happened because--though he was not  _ pure _ by any measure of the imagination--he was supremely uninterested in taking a spouse. With his nephew already named as his successor, Harry preferred focusing his attention on his service to the kingdom, to its defense and the expansion of its borders, not on the frivolity of affection.

He’d lead many of the campaigns of the last three decades, gaining innumerable new subjects and land for the Kingdom of Lassance, a notorious reputation as a conqueror among foreign lands, and a thirst for even more success on the battlefield.

He was fierce, though merciful. Relentless, but compassionate. And just now, he was very,  _ very  _ bored.

Merlin at his side was crowing with laughter, the tankard he was swinging about in the air sloshing ale all over the table. Percival and Lancelot were equally inebriated on his other side, cheering on the young women throwing cottequish smiles Harry’s way. The King was demanding through uproarious laughter that Harry put these pretty young women out of their misery and choose one. And they were lovely, undoubtedly. Lassance was a rich and fruitful kingdom and their courtiers were afforded fabulous cloths and an abundance of jewels with which to adorn themselves

And none of them interested Harry.

“Leave it, Merlin,” Harry said, rolling his eyes, while Merlin beckoned one of them over.

“Ah, you grumpy old git,” Merlin said. “Here they are all dressed up in their finest, and it’s wasted on you.” He stood for the lady and gave her a grand bow as he kissed her hand. “Apologies, milady, but Sir Harry seems to be far too fatigued to lavish on you the attention you deserve.”

“Pity,” she responded. “But maybe your good self might accompany me instead for a turn about the room?” Merlin lifted his eyebrows knowingly at Harry with a grin and allowed the lady to lead him along behind her. Harry only tipped his mug up at him and wondered how much longer he needed to stay before he could plausibly excuse himself without offending the King. Merlin was right about one thing: he was fatigued--not from travel, mind, but from this gods-be-damned feast.

“Such a grumpy pout on such a festive occasion,” suddenly came a musical whisper directly in his ear. He would have startled, but years of battle have effectively trained that impulse out of him. 

Besides, he was hoping  _ he  _ would show up.

“My interests lie elsewhere, unfortunately,” Harry answered as a pair of arms wrapped themselves around his neck from behind. There was a golden sheen to them, an aura almost, which would have told Harry who it was if he hadn’t already memorized the lilt of his voice. 

“Do I get to lie in them too?” was the laughing question as the owner of said arms slid around his chair and he found himself with the lapful of golden fae. His gossamer wings floated lazily about them, like chiffon in the breeze, blurring out the rest of the court so that Harry’s full attention was on him. Not that that was necessary for him to gain Harry’s attention.

“Hello, Eggsy,” Harry greeted. Locks of Eggsy’s hair fell into his face, so Harry pushed them back to see his very lovely green eyes. And the pointed moue on his mouth.

“You were gone  _ a whole year _ ,” he pouted.

“My sincerest apologies,” Harry answered, not without a touch of sarcasm, “The Navicans proved harder to subdue than anticipated, and half the time was spent simply getting there and back.” 

Still, the pout remained. “You’d all the things you needed to subdue them. Six months is  _ far  _ too long.” But before Harry could explain, Eggsy wrapped his arms about Harry’s neck to ask coyly, “Did you at least bring me back any presents?”

Harry was about to say something about the campaign not being a holiday, but the King suddenly boomed, “I see why Sir Harry would have none of you, ladies, for who could hold a candle to the charm of our neighbouring fae brethren?” When Harry and Eggsy looked about, they found all eyes on them. 

Eggsy giggled and hopped to his feet up on top of the table, giving everyone a grand bow. “Miladys and Milords,” he greeted. “My queen extends her sincerest congratulations for a successful campaign and has sent me to bestow…  _ gifts  _ on our conquering hero.” It was said with an unsubtle leer that only made Harry roll his eyes.

The King rose with his goblet in his hand. “And allow me to thank her majesty on our conquering hero’s behalf,” he said with a gracious bow of his head before calling out, “Sir Harry!” Harry turned to him. “I give you leave of the rest of this evening’s festivities. I’m sure you’re eager to retire with the Queen’s…  _ gifts _ .” Laughter filled the hall, but Harry only stood quickly to bow in acquiescence, having found his opportunity to escape before anyone decided to keep him there.

Unfortunately, that ‘anyone’ happened to be Eggsy. 

“Aww, but I was hoping for a dance,” he pouted as he floated his way back down to Harry’s side.

Harry refused the urge to roll his eyes and instead gestured to the entirety of the room. “You have your pick of the crowd, my dear.”

Eggsy’s grin was equally mischievous and delighted. “Yes, I do,” he agreed, and then snatched Harry’s hand before he could further protest, laughing and dragging him to the middle of the room.

With only the barest of conceding sighs, Harry swung him around and into the curve of his arms. He’d known the fae for the better part of five years and giving into him was much easier than subjecting himself to an evening of whining and complaining and kicked-puppy looks.

The fae never seemed to weigh anything, something he often took advantage of by hanging all over Harry, but here, on the dance floor, light as a feather, he felt like a cool summer night’s breeze. 

His smile was incandescent, blinding Harry of the sight of the court and his fellow knights around him. A blessing, really, in more ways than one.

Harry didn’t tell him that, though. Dear Lord, no. He’d be positively  _ insufferable _ . Instead, Harry told him, “You are a  _ test _ , my dear,” if only to hear him laugh.

“And you, my lord, are passing wonderfully,” Eggsy answered with a wink.

…………………………….

If any of his knights thought that they could needle him about last night, Harry made sure to nip that in the bud at training the next day. He hadn't been lying, after all, when he said the Navicans had been harder to subdue than expected, which was just unacceptable. It gave him that extra bit of reason to refuse their request for a bit of slack and instead ride them hard on their grappling skills and stealth, which had proven to be their pitfalls against the enemy.

He'd had the training yard set up with various obstacles for them to overcome--in full armour no less--to hone said skills further, and if, by noon, even Merlin--who usually supported him without fail--was complaining, Harry considered it a job well done.

"Half an hour," he told them as they trudged back to the armoury, aching and miserable, and received groans in return. It'd take at least twenty minutes to sort out their armour and weapons, leaving hardly enough time for a proper meal, let alone a moment’s rest.

"And another two hours more!" came the voice Harry was, right now, both pleased and annoyed to hear. True enough, coming up behind him, out of the trees nearby, was Eggsy, in his usual garb--or lack thereof.

Harry should have belayed his interjection with a sharp command, but the sight of Eggsy's firm pectorals and trim waist, Adonis lines tapering down beneath the waistband of his trousers seemed to dry out Harry's mouth. Momentarily, Harry was thankful for whatever deity that had failed to bless the fairy folk with the same propriety humans possessed.

" _ Really _ , Harry," Eggsy admonished, "A whole year away and you can't take even a few days off to wind down?”

“Our kingdom was not built on the leisure of its soldiers, Eggsy,” was Harry’s response as he watched Eggsy walk up to Abelard to stroke beneath his chin and press a kiss to his muzzle. Harry was charmed by the gesture; he always was. Eggsy was the single most charming being who had ever walked into Harry’s life, but Harry wasn’t quite ready yet to let go of the countenance he’d cultivated of himself as a knight of the highest order, as the leader of the King’s army, as the kingdom’s fiercest warrior, so he told Eggsy, “Abelard is a  _ war horse _ , Eggsy. Do avoid treating him like a puppy.” But Eggsy only laughed. He floated up to Harry’s side, his wings fluttering to take him up there, and dropped a kiss on his cheek.

“So serious,” he teased, a mocking frown on his face, as he settled himself sideways in Harry’s lap and draped his arms around Harry’s neck.

“Eggsy--”

“I’m hungry,” Eggsy interrupted quickly before Harry could protest any more. As if by magic (which Harry wouldn’t have doubted), Abelard started forward, carrying Eggsy and Harry away from the training yard and just past the castle moat to where the forest met the banks. He didn’t have to ask where they were going; it was always the same place: a small grove of willows by the castle’s south wall filled with a variety of wildflowers that Eggsy always took the time to greet like favoured children. Harry didn’t much understand the magic of the fae, and so he didn’t doubt that Eggsy could speak to the flowers as well as he could to any man. 

And to be perfectly honest, watching Eggsy coo over the bright blossoms and murmur at the decades-old willows as the glittering water of the moat created a sparkling aura of light about him was not a difficult sight to bear.

When Eggsy had finally finished his rounds, he turned his attentions back to Harry and held out a hand to beckon him closer. Harry, on principle, made it a point to resist acquiescing to Eggsy’s whims, mostly because he had a reputation to maintain, thank you very much, despite Eggsy’s best efforts to make people see the contrary. This time, however, he didn’t bother. Surrounded by the weeping branches of the trees and enclosed by Eggsy’s lovely friends, Harry felt safe enough to do what he actually wanted to do, which was to take Eggsy’s hand and let himself be pulled closer to the fae, to let Eggsy undo his armour with an ease that Harry knew had less to do with actually knowing what he was doing and more to do with passing his hand over the buckles and letting his magic do the rest.

It was only his training armour, so it was much simpler than any of his battle armours and even far simpler than his ceremonial one. As Eggsy managed to undo each plate, they fell to the ground with a damning clunk that echoed against the castle walls, but Harry didn’t pay it any attention, only the fae beneath his nose.

Eggsy smelled exquisite. He smelled like the morning mist in the forest on the first day of spring. He smelled the way Harry felt when the battle was over and won, and he was finally allowed the chance to curl up by the fire in his room and just simply  _ be _ . It was probably why Harry felt drawn to him so badly--he wanted to bury his face in the crook of Eggsy’s neck and drown in the scent of tranquility and forget about kingdoms and knights and battle tactics and just  _ be _ .

The chainmail skirt slunk to the ground from his waist in a jingle of links, and Harry felt Eggsy’s fingers at the bow that held his thigh plate to his arming jacket. The proximity of his fingers to Harry’s groin did not go unnoticed, and Eggsy appeared to have reached the same conclusion because he peered up at Harry through his eyelashes with an impish smile.

And then he sunk to his knees, and Harry’s heart seemed to seize in his chest until he realized it was only so that Eggsy could undo the buckles of his leg plates. Still, the beat of his heart slowed to a crawl as Eggsy’s fingers brushed and pressed against his thighs and calves through the fabric of his hose when he undid the buckles. Harry was  _ sure _ he was doing it to tease because he kept glancing up with that same fucking smile on his face, and Harry was half tempted to do  _ something  _ to wipe it off. 

He didn’t because therein lay madness.

“And this,” Eggsy said when he finally-- _ finally _ \--climbed back to his feet. His voice was light and casual, but Harry’s was caught in his throat because those nimble little fingers were undoing the laces of his arming jacket with nonchalant ease. 

“Eggsy--” Harry tried to protest, but Eggsy headed it off before it could be heard.

“No offense, Harry, but this fucking reeks.” Of course it did. Washing it would ruin the fit of the closely-tailored jacket, and though Harry was wealthy enough, it wasn’t practical to have one made and discarded every time he put on his armour. But in the matter of Eggsy’s comfort over Harry’s, it was pretty much clear who would win, and so without further complaint, he allowed Eggsy to continue.

From Harry’s neck down, Eggsy tugged the bows apart one after the other until the jacket fell open in the front naturally, and then he slid the flat of his palms from the base of either side of Harry’s ribs, over his pectorals, and up his shoulders under the guise of pushing the jacket off, the little shit.

Harry wore nothing beneath it, of course, as was practice. Armour was unforgiving enough as it was; too many layers would hinder a knight’s ability to move. And so he stood before Eggsy, bare-chested and barely dressed, frightfully far too exposed for the lack of tangible privacy around them. Eggsy, however, didn’t pay any mind to his discomfort, eyeing him up instead with a glimmer of delight in his eyes. A hint of pink darted out onto his lower lip, and Harry nearly crushed their mouths together to chase after it after his tongue disappeared once more into his mouth.

The fae was infuriatingly enticing, and it took all of Harry’s willpower not to give in.

Exactly why that was, he wasn’t really sure.

Eggsy’s smile turned soft for a brief moment, and he reached behind one of the bushes to take out a basket. “I had Matilda fix something up,” he told Harry as he sat down and opened the basket up. One by one, he took out plates of breads and cheeses and cuts of meat and fruit, spreading them across the grass while Harry took a seat beside him. A canteen of wine or ale followed out of the basket, and Eggsy handed it to him for a swig. It was all lovely and mouthwatering, and Harry  _ had _ had a hard morning of training, but Eggsy did say he was hungry too.

“Are you having some as well?” Harry asked. “You said you were hungry.” Despite the apparent deliciousness of the spread, Eggsy often and  _ loudly _ made his thoughts very well known on how much he disliked human food.

‘It’s just so  _ bland _ ,’ he’d say. ‘Like, have you not heard of flavour  _ at all _ ?’ But to this day, he’d never offered Harry a bite of his kind’s food, and Harry would have never taken one. He knows the stories, it had been drilled into all of them as children. One bite, and they’d lose all desire for human food. They’d go mad, they’d fall slave to the fae for any mere morsel.

Harry often wondered if that also applied to having a taste of  _ Eggsy _ .

“Not for  _ food _ ,” Eggsy told him with a laugh. And dear gods, when Eggsy  _ laughed _ . Harry had never heard music more beautiful than Eggsy’s laugh. It was disarming; it distracted him enough for Eggsy to overpower him, to push him back into the grass and snuggle up into his side, skin to skin with one of Eggsy’s legs slung over his. The fae lifted himself up onto an elbow so that Harry looked up into his face framed by the rustling willow leaves and random pinpricks of light that shone through them. He was beautiful.

“And you wanted to waste your day in that stuffy, heavy suit instead of here with me,” Eggsy teased. A cube of cheese was pressed against Harry’s lips, so he opened his mouth obediently and let himself be fed. 

Eggsy, on the other hand, bit into a strawberry--raw fruits and vegetables were the only thing he could really stomach--staining his lips redder than they already were. Harry was  _ sure _ he was doing this on purpose, and his moaned ‘mmm’ seemed to support that theory.

“You’re a little devil,” Harry told him, to which he laughed.

“ _ Rude _ ,” Eggsy shot back, “and after I’d gone through the trouble of acquiring you all this food and hand feed it to you and everything. I don’t know why I bother.”

Harry didn’t either.

“Why do you?” he suddenly asked, the question coming unbidden when he had never thought of asking before.

Eggsy had come into Harry’s life five years ago suddenly and unexpectedly. One day, Harry didn’t know he existed, and the next day, he was a near permanent fixture in Harry’s life. Before Eggsy, the fae were an unknown entity in the adjacent woods, neither good nor bad, sometimes either, sometimes both. They were treated with wariness and begrudging respect. Often fear as well, though more often than not, in Harry’s experience, the tales of their kind exceeded the truth of the matter. 

And then Eggsy came, the only fae who so grandly let his existence be known, and utterly charmed half the kingdom--its King included--in ten seconds flat and the other half in the next ten seconds after that. He caught Harry’s eye where the knight stood guard in front of the King while Eggsy introduced himself as the emissary of the Faerie Queen, and had been inexplicably glued to him ever since.

“I like pretty things,” was Eggsy’s only explanation, with a bright smile, and Harry fought his hardest to keep the flush off of his face. It was hardly the full truth, Harry knew, but he supposed his answer really didn’t matter, only that Eggsy was  _ here _ .

…………………………….

Harry came to in a dark, damp space, half cave, half prison cell with what little light he could see. Stalactites and stalagmites grew like the menacing teeth of a great whale around where he was hung by his wrists to a wall. Water dripped down them to pool on the floor and trickle towards an even darker corner of the room. Ten paces away were bars of steel crudely, but effectively plunged into the rock, seemingly immovable. Around him was a deafening silence, save for the  _ drip, drip, drip  _ of water.

He berated himself for being so  _ stupid _ . Careless enough to get caught in his own homeland, surrounded by the massive walls of Lassance and the might of his knights. Weary from a year-long campaign, he’d let his guard down far enough to get captured, and this was  _ after _ he’d punished his knights with heavy training to address their performance issues that had led to the year-long campaign in the first place.

He was never going to hear the end of this from Merlin.

He shifted in his spot once to catalogue any injuries on himself. He was still dressed in his nightclothes, so it was apparent when his captors had taken him. He didn’t appear to have any injuries or pains aside from the  _ massive  _ throbbing in his skull meaning either a head injury or magic.

His question was answered hours later when an external door opened and shut and three figures appeared before the bars two flanking the one.

“Lord Henry Hart of Lassance,” came his greeting with the rolled ‘r’s that Harry had become intimately familiar with over the course of the last year. Indeed, his captor wore the colors of Navica, deep purples and rich golds. The leader of the trio bore a much grander armour than the other two, though his rank was unknown.

“How barbaric you Navicans treat your guests,” Harry answered in a drawl befitting the haughtiest of Lassance courtiers. “Especially after unceremoniously taking them from their bedchambers at night without so much as the opportunity to respond.”

The other man only laughed. “None of us lack the courage you think you and your knights have, Lord Hart, but we are not fools not to know that we cannot possibly face Lassance head on. Not after what you did to my country.” There was true rage in his tone, simmering beneath the feigned amusement in his voice.

“War is not without its casualties, I’m afraid, and unfortunately, you had given us no choice--”   
  
“No  _ choice _ ?!” the man suddenly snapped, cutting Harry off. Though the bars still separated Harry from his captor, he braced himself in case the situation changed. “You invade  _ my _ country, kill  _ my  _ fellowmen,  _ kidnap  _ my king and my queen, and imprison everyone else, and you say you had  _ no choice _ ?”

“Your  _ king _ ,” Harry sneered, “had his  _ wizards _ send death to knock at  _ my  _ King’s door. If that is not an act of war, I do not know what is! You should be thankful that their attempt had been thwarted, or else we would not have simply captured the royal family but slain them as well, both of which were much greater acts of mercy from my King than what I would have done had I not been commanded otherwise.”

“You had no proof!”

“We had all the proof we needed,” answered Harry. “Their emissaries were willing enough to divulge their secrets with the right  _ persuasion _ . It is not only Navica who has ties to the magic of the Earth, after all.” 

Eggsy, of course, had been instrumental in that respect. Not only had he alerted Harry the night that the thornghouls were sent, but he had traced them back to their masters who had confessed to the plot. What he had been doing in Harry’s room that night had been the subject of much discourse afterwards, furtively whispered in the corridors by the servants and discussed loudly in his face by his knights, despite Harry’s best efforts to convince the castle subjects that he was just reading to Eggsy. Nevertheless, if the kingdom of Lassance had been simply fond of Eggsy before, after then, they’d grown to trust him.

“Lies!” the Navican declared, and Harry decided then that there would be no point in arguing with him any further. “You shall pay for your actions, Lord Hart. I will make sure of that.” As he turned his back, he added, “Worry not, however. I have no intention to put you to death just yet, not when my king is still trapped in your lands.” Of course Harry would be used as a bargaining chip. After the incident, the security around the royal family had quadrupled, but Harry hadn’t needed security--he  _ was _ the security--and so he was the next best person accountable for the siege who could be taken.

“But don’t think we wouldn’t try our hardest to take you as close as possible.”

…………………………….

At the end of three weeks, they hardly needed to chain him up anymore.

He could barely move from the cold, hard floor where they’d throw him after he’d served whatever sadistic purposes they had in mind. They gave him far too little water and fed him even less than that, giving him little opportunity to regain any semblance of strength. The muscle he’d worked hard on every damned day of his life had withered away to practically nothing, and his appearance was utterly deplorable.

His eye, though. His fucking eye.

They’d torn it out with red hot tongs, inflicting on him a pain so terrible, he’d passed out almost immediately from sheer agony. Afterwards, he’d woken up to half his vision missing and a blood-drenched bit of cloth wrapped around his face.

It was a bit vain of him to think right now about how he looked, he supposed, but when you’ve had every single bone in your body shattered and magically repaired over and over again, when you’ve had your  _ fucking eye  _ torn out of your head, he had to look for joy wherever he could to stay sane, and moaning about his face helped. Mostly, he thought about what Eggsy would have to say about it. Something about his face looking as good as his singing sounded, he imagined.

Gods,  _ Eggsy _ .

He should have given in to his desires and taken the fae when he had the chance that day by the banks of the moat. Or the evening before that after the feast. Or even that fucking evening when the thornghouls attacked instead of fucking  _ reading _ to him like he  _ actually did _ . Eggsy certainly hinted enough at it, outright  _ asked  _ for it at times, and like a fucking imbecile, Harry had denied him, denied both of them under the misguided notion of, what? Propriety? Reproach? Some sort of fear of his kind?

Dear fucking gods, he was an idiot.

He’d no doubt there’d be discussion about his rescue. Whether or not they actually  _ could _ was still up in the air, though. Or  _ when  _ they actually would. It had taken them three months to get to Navica during their campaign, and that was assuming he was in Navica at all, and if so,  _ where _ in Navica. 

He rolled onto his side and groaned. His ribs were bruised, but his back was even worse, so he had to give it a break from the floor for a bit.

They’ll come, Harry was sure of it. His men, Merlin and Percival and Lancelot, at least, on their own, if not with the blessing of the king. His men--his  _ friends _ would come for him. He was sure of it.

“They’ll come,” he said to the emptiness of his cage. And then he drifted off.

…………………………….

Harry was used to the silence of his cell, the sound of nothingness that seemed to fill his ears with cotton. At first, it was unnerving. He could practically hear each beat of his heart that grew louder and stronger as the silence intensified until it felt like his heart filled his chest, and he couldn’t breath. But now, he sought the silence. Needed the safety it promised because if it was silent, it meant he was alone, away from his captors and his torturers and the screams of pain they'd managed to extract from him despite his best efforts.

And so the sounds of explosions on the other side of his wall, the sounds of screams that permeated the rock grated on his eardrums, jolting him harshly out of his very fucking well-deserved rest. 

At first, he thought it was another of their endeavours to make his life unbearable, but soon, he realised it was much more than that. The sounds that he heard were more akin to a war happening outside of his cell than any intention to torment him.

The external door flew open, slamming against the wall with a sound that rang in Harry's ears for a good minute and a half afterwards. Soldiers in Navican armour poured into the anteroom in front of his cell, weapons drawn and fear palpable among their ranks as they shouted at each other in their native language. The door was shut behind them, and they visibly  _ trembled _ in wait.

Harry had no doubt it was the Lassance army on the other side of that door, and he nearly  _ cried _ . He sat up--standing was a mere memory right now--and put himself to rights as best as he was able. He knew how terrible he looked; he didn't want to appear pitiful in front of his men as well.

Only, as he quickly found out, it  _ wasn't _ the Lassance army.

The door once more flew open, and he saw the moment the Navicans' courage fled in the face of fear. They shifted backwards, pressing each other up against his bars, turning away from the door and scrambling to get  _ into _ his cell and away from whatever it could be.

Harry shifted back, a little wary himself of what could make trained and battle-hardened soldiers so terrified. There were a number of ghastly monsters from deep within the eons-old forests around the world that came to mind, but Harry dismissed the thought as easily as it came, as he was wont to do, because if humanity ever found a way to tame the beasts and use them in battle, Lassance would assuredly be the first to figure out how to do so. That they haven’t yet proved that this wasn’t a monster.

Except that it  _ was _ .

A cluster of what appeared to be massive black tentacles--five, by Harry’s count--shot into the room, grabbing the soldiers one at a time around their waists and flinging them aside, slamming them high against the wall and the ceiling. When they fell to the floor, they were unconscious. The creature filled the doorway so that none could escape its reach, despite their best efforts. 

This was it, Harry thought. This was the end for him. Nothing but a couple of bars and a few men stood between him and the beast, and as soon as it passed them and reached him, it was the end. He had no weapon, no  _ strength _ to protect himself from it. He was a sitting duck.

Three weeks. He’d endured three weeks of torture, bore every pain, the agony on the firm hope thet he’d eventually get home, but now.

Now, he thought he was ready to breathe his last and with it the thought,  _ Goodbye, Eggsy _ .

The soldiers’ screams were piercing as they fought back against the beast, managing to pin one arm down and then another and then another until all five were just barely held down by two or three soldiers apiece. The creature struggled valiantly, but it was finally contained.

And when Harry had thought they had managed to halt the creature’s attack, it suddenly pulled its arms back out of the door, and  _ Eggsy _ was walking through towards them--no not walking, but  _ striding  _ through with an aura emanating from him reminiscent of the ever-present glow of his skin, but at this moment, ten times as bright that Harry had to shield his remaining eye. 

He wasn't the ethereal darling Harry had come to know him as, who always had a smile on his face and a glint in his eye, who’d fawn over Harry and teasingly drape himself over him like some waifish maiden. No, Eggsy was in armour that could rival Harry’s own, gleaming with the glow around him and blinding to his opponents. His gossamer wings that usually floated serenely about him were now taut and solid behind him, glinting along its edges like a sword catching the light. His jaw was squared and set, his teeth clenched, and his eyes were burning spheres of white flame.

He looked…  _ powerful _ .

He beat his wings once and shot up towards the high ceiling, and when he dived back down, his wings sung in the air and slashed right through the Navicans’ armour down to their bone.

They shouted in fright and attempted to fight back, some taking the cowards’ way out and running for the door only to be caught by the beast still lurking behind it. Eggsy swooped once more around the room, twisting and spinning to dodge their weapons and incapacitate them. He wielded his wings as well as Harry wielded his sword and much in the same way, and it was utterly  _ glorious _ .

And then it was over as soon as it had begun.

Eggsy surveyed the room with an air of satisfaction that sufficient retribution had been doled out, and then he turned to Harry in his cell and that air faltered. The glow in his eyes waned until they were once more the green orbs Harry had spent hours looking into, widened and worried, and when he caught sight of Harry’s face, he made a wounded noise.

He waved his hand in front of him and the bars that had kept Harry locked in these past few weeks instantaneously bent apart. Harry would have leapt up to greet him, but his femurs were something of a hindrance at the moment. No matter though because Eggsy quickly ran over and fell to his knees.

“ _ Harry _ ,” he whispered, like he couldn’t believe he was real. He reached out to touch the bandage on his eye, so, so, so lightly that Harry didn’t even feel it, but refused to touch any more. His hands moved all over Harry’s body, hovering a good inch above, checking, Harry assumed, what the damage was because he bit his lip and when he looked up, his eyes were glimmering with a different sort of worry. “They did a pretty shit number on you,” was his conclusion, and Harry laughed, a throaty, gasping chuckle that did not reassure Eggsy once bit.

“Yes, I was there, thank you,” he croaked out.

Eggsy shushed him and bit his lip once more. “It’ll be easier for you if I knock you out and carry you back,” he suggested, and Harry told him, “If you even  _ dare _ , I will lock you out of my bedroom for the rest of the fucking year.”  _ That _ seemed to get a laugh out of Eggsy, short as it was, and reminded Harry of the conclusion he came to not five hours ago.

Ignoring every pain in his body from his head to his foot, he leaned forward and kissed Eggsy.

The fae startled at the action, unresponsive at first, but then his hand landed on Harry’s-- _ lightly _ \--and he was kissing Harry back.

When Harry pulled away, Eggsy made a small noise of protest, and Harry murmured, “My breath is probably foul, I’m sorry.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Eggsy swore and kissed him once more. It was tentative and careful and so very, very lovely, and Harry was of the full intention of taking it further, but his pains clearly wanted to make themselves known when he shifted forward. His wince broke the kiss, and Eggsy’s lovely face was once again filled with worry, even as he asked, “Reckon we can continue this later, or was this just a thank-you-for-saving-my-sorry-arse kiss?” It was said in a teasing sort of tone that was clearly meant to hide the uncertainty--and  _ hope _ \--in his voice that Harry clearly heard anyway.

“Definitely later,” Harry promised through gritted teeth as Eggsy helped him to his feet. For a moment, he considered letting Eggsy knock him out anyway, but the thought of being carried princess-style all the way back home was far more painful than having his bones broken, so no thank you. 

He really  _ was  _ a fucking idiot.

They passed through numerous corridors of dark grey rock and up several excruciating flights of stairs. Around them, other prisoners wailed for help, but Harry ignored them for now. He could send someone to deal with them later.

Outside was blessedly overcast and dim, the clouds pregnant with rain but daring not to fall. Even that was far too bright for Harry who shielded his eye from it. The ground was littered with the bodies of Navican soldiers, rebels fighting back against their conquerors and ultimately failing. Some were of his own men, who the remainder carefully collected and lay in an awaiting carriage.

More interestingly were the two rows of fae knights on stark white horses standing along the path, alert and ready for a command. Behind them, some ways away, were two beasts like the one Harry had seen down below and another that seemed like a cross between a bear and a wolf with the antlers of a stag. All three creatures were feeding on the corpses of the Navicans.

“Thank Tombtaur, Wraog, and Urin for their service and assist them in getting home,” Eggsy told the fae knights almost dismissively while he helped Harry hobble across the ground. They took no offence, however, and simply saluted and took off--their horses unfolding wings that hadn’t been there before--and it was then that Harry realized that maybe Eggsy wasn’t a mere “ambassador” for the Queen. 

He was about to ask, but was interrupted by a loud and startlingly relieved, “Harry!” 

Merlin jogged up to them, his armour clanging loudly as he went, and gave Harry a salute that probably conveyed more emotion in it that his expression did. “Didn’t expect you to be alive, to be honest,” he joked. Eggsy made a pained noise at that, which Merlin ignored, but he strayed away from further jokes about Harry’s mortality anyway. “Fashion statement?” he asked instead, gesturing to his own eye.

“A necessity, I’m afraid,” Harry answered. His voice, raspy and barely there, sobered Merlin completely.

“Percival and Lancelot are gathering the troops and counting heads, but I think we’ve got most of our dead in the carriage. We’ve got another standing by for you with a physician ready to treat you,” he reported. “Both carriages can go ahead, but we’ll stay a little longer to make sure no one gets any similar ideas.”

“I’m taking him,” Eggsy told him with a command in his voice that conveyed that this conversation was over and he was accepting no protests. To Harry, he said, “I know you have a  _ thing _ about being carried off into the sunset, but unfortunately, you’re going to have to suck it up because we’re taking my horse and you can’t sit properly on it.” Harry was about to protest, but Eggsy held up his hand. “It's faster--much faster than your damn carriage, and I am taking you to Elfrec to get you treated  _ properly _ .”

“Lassance doctors are the best in the world,” Harry felt compelled to say, but Eggsy shook his head.

“They’re leagues away from our healers, and they wouldn’t know how to properly treat magical injuries anyway.”

“I think I might have to agree with Eggsy on this one, Harry,” Merlin said. “You should go with him. I can hold down the castle for the time you need to recover.” For a moment, Harry hesitated, and then he realized he was once again  _ denying  _ himself of what he wanted in the face of maintaining a reputation--one that was quickly losing its value in the face of his pain and the worry on Eggsy’s face.

“Alright,” he agreed.

“I’ll have to put you to sleep, alright?” Eggsy asked, to which Harry nodded, and then the world melted away into the first blissful sleep he’d had in nearly three weeks.

…………………………….

He was floating-- _ literally _ , floating when he came to, in a pool of water that smelled indescribably divine. It was warm around him, the exact temperature he usually needed--whenever he could take the time to indulge himself in a bath--to help seep away his training aches, or torture in this case. His eyes were covered, keeping him from looking around and finding out where he was, but he wasn’t worried. He felt nothing, not a single twinge or worry, nothing but peace and relaxation.

He succumbed once more to sleep.

…………………………….

The next time he woke, he found himself far more alert and aware. Alert enough to lift his hand and find that he felt nothing. Alert enough to remove the cover on his eyes and find himself still half blind. Alert enough to sit up and find Eggsy watching him with nothing else around them but trees and flowers and grass and a shimmering haze that could not be found in the human realms.

He was sitting in a small pool of the warm, fragrant-smelling water he recognized from the first time he woke. Petals, leaves, and small flowers floated around him lazily, their purpose--if they had one at all--unknown, but Harry’s wasn’t planning on asking Eggsy about them. That wasn’t what he wanted to know. 

He wanted to know how they found him. He wanted to know who Eggsy really was to Elfrec and its Queen. He wanted to know how long he’d been out. He wanted to know what had happened after they left. Mostly, though, he wanted to know if Eggsy felt the same about him as he did of Eggsy.

Eggsy took a moment to visually check him over and, seemingly satisfied with what he saw, crawled his way into the pool with Harry and knelt over him. He touched Harry’s cheek, beneath his ruined eye, and murmured, “We couldn’t put it back, I’m sorry. The damage was too much.”

Harry caught his hand and pressed a kiss to his fingertips. “It’s not your fault.”

“I should have protected you,” Eggsy countered.

“I’m not your responsibility,” Harry told him.

Eggsy shook his head emphatically. “It’s my duty,” he said, and Harry frowned.

“Why would it be?” he asked, confused. Eggsy sighed and sunk down into the waist-deep water beside him, still so careful even though Harry felt not a single ache on his body anymore. Honestly, he would have preferred Eggsy in his lap.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed I hold a certain command over Elfrec’s knights,” he started, and yes, that was one of Harry’s questions. “I’m actually Queen Roxanne’s right hand, the leader of her armies. Not unlike the position you’re in.” Admittedly, that was a bit of a surprise. Nothing in Eggsy’s demeanour had been evidence of his position, especially when Harry contrasted Eggsy with himself. Harry didn’t have to point it out though; he only nodded for Eggsy to continue.

“A little over four decades ago, we were involved in a battle with Faleagarth near your homestead, Gadleigh. It was a vicious fight; they were as skilled and motivated as we were, and many fae were lost on both sides.

“I, myself, was on the verge of losing to Myriil, a skilled fighter, he was. One of the best I’ve ever encountered. He had me pinned down with his wings at my throat.” Eggsy tipped his head back to show the faintest of scars running perpendicular to his neck, but Harry was mostly preoccupied with wondering how it would feel beneath his lips. Oblivious to Harry’s wandering thoughts, Eggsy continued to tell his tale. “A second further, an inch lower, and he would have taken my life.

“Fortunately, your father saved me.”

Harry’s eye, wide with shock, flew up into Eggsy’s.

“My father?” he asked, disbelieving more than clarifying. Eggsy nodded.

“Your father shot an arrow right into his heart, allowing me to push him off and escape,” he explained. “And so I owed your father a boon.” His fingers pushed the hair back from Harry’s forehead and stroked the edges of his empty eye socket. Harry figured he’d have an eyepatch made--they could be quite intimidating in the right design--but for now, as long as Eggsy didn't mind, neither did he. “You were barely six, then, when I first saw you, playing with a glass bauble in your father’s home. He pointed at you and said, ‘This is my son. I want him to have my boon. I want him to live a long life, and I ask that you protect him.’ 

“And so I did as best as I was able while you went through each stage of your knighthood. I kept dangerous creatures away when you practiced with your sword in the forest, I calmed your horse when lightning struck. I took down men who meant you harm when I knew you couldn’t fight back. All of this while keeping hidden as we fae folk do because you had no reason to need to see me.

“But later on, I _wanted_ you to see me.” Eggsy reached up to cup Harry’s jaw with both of his hands. “The Queen advised me against it. Fae and humans do not well mix at the best of times, and of course, I had no choice but to obey, but _then_ , then you go and get yourself nearly fucking _killed_ , you fucking _nut_ , and Rox knew she could no longer keep me away from you.” 

“The forest fire near Ravenham,” Harry whispered, his eye widening even further in realization. 

Five years ago, he’d been on patrol near a small town called Ravenham on the other side of Elfrec’s forest when a fire had broken out. They’d managed to get all the villagers out before the fire managed to kill anyone, until a mother realized that her daughter was missing. That Harry had found her was the important part. That he was later ambushed and poisoned was a whole other matter.

“I was away at the time,” Eggsy said, “So I didn’t know about it until after you’d gotten better. But after that, I needed to be near you always, for you to simply whisper my name into the wind, and I’d be there so that you’d never be mortally wounded again.

“And I failed.”

Harry gave into his temptation and pulled Eggsy into his lap. Eggsy put up token protest on account of Harry having  _ just  _ healed, but Harry shushed him with a soft kiss, warm as the water around them and equally as pleasant. When he pulled away to find hearts in Eggsy’s eyes, he considered it a job well done.

“One,” he started, “I was never in any danger of death, not while we had their king. They made that absolutely clear.”

Eggsy scoffed. “And somehow losing your eye and being bled nearly dry was a far better deal?” So Harry kissed him again.

“I’ve you in my arms now, so it couldn’t have been that terrible,” he said, and then quickly added before Eggsy could speak, “ _ Two _ , you could have just  _ told _ me.”

“What, that I--a fae warrior, someone you’d never met or even heard of before--that I love you and that I’d coddle you to your heart's content?” Eggsy countered with another scoff. “You’d have run screaming for the hills.”

He was right, Harry knew; he  _ would  _ have run screaming, or at the very least did his level best to chase Eggsy back into his forest, but then, “You love me?” he asked, with what was surely the dopiest possible smile on his face.

Eggsy flushed a bright red across his cheekbones to his ears, though he did echo Harry’s smile, and it was such an endearing sight that Harry couldn’t help but draw him closer and kiss him once more.

“I do,” Eggsy murmured.

“Then I should probably tell you that I think I might love you, too,” Harry admitted, and wasn’t that just a wonderful relief to say? He couldn’t name it at first, the feeling he had of wanting to see Eggsy all the time, the bone-deep satisfaction of having Eggsy within touching distance, to hear his voice, to breathe in his scent. He didn’t have to want Eggsy in his bed to know that he bore a great deal of affection for the fae, and the last three weeks helped him put a name to that affection.

That being said, he  _ did _ want Eggsy in his bed--metaphorically speaking, of course, because right now, he had Eggsy in his lap, face bright with utter and true happiness, and that was completely and utterly perfect. 

He quickly became  _ intimately _ aware of the single layer of clothing that was Eggsy’s trousers between them, mostly because Eggsy was plumping up right against his own rapidly filling cock, and when Eggsy shifted in Harry’s lap and pressed them harder against each other, they both gasped.

He drew Eggsy forward again with a hand on his jaw, the other squeezing Eggsy’s hip just a  _ shade  _ tighter. This time, Eggsy opened his mouth for Harry almost as soon as their lips touched, allowing him to taste him deeply,  _ properly _ , and Harry found that the taste of him was pure and unadulterated  _ Heaven _ .

Harry had once wondered if having a taste of Eggsy would send a man--him, specifically, and no other--mad, if it would compel him to offer himself into Eggsy’s service for even a mere morsel thereafter. 

He discovered that it did and that he didn’t fucking mind one  _ bit _ . He’d been ruined for everything else, and he loved it.

“ _ Eggsy _ ,” Harry breathed into him, a prayer and a plea all at once.

“Yes,” was all Eggsy said in response, and it was all the prompting Harry needed to surge forward and pin Eggsy down to the banks of the healing pond. Eggsy grinned up at him. “Here?” he asked, his eyebrows raised in question, teasing. Harry often made a fuss over human sensibilities, after all, but right now, he couldn’t give a solitary fuck about them.

“ _ Yes _ ,” he hissed and once more dove in to chase the taste of him.

Eggsy wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck and his legs around his waist to pull him down so that they were aligned from chest to cock, and then he rocked his hips up into Harry’s, a single, sensual undulation that caused all thought to stutter in Harry’s mind.

“Fuck,” Harry rasped, which is probably why Eggsy did it again. “Gods, Eggsy,” Harry moaned into the crook of his neck, burying his face in for the deep breath of the scent of morning mist he’d always wanted to take but was too stupid to indulge in.

“Yes, Harry,” Eggsy agreed, laughter in his voice now as he continued to thrust his cock up against Harry’s, repeatedly, until Harry’s mind was a muddle of thoughts and feelings. 

It was debilitating, this  _ want _ he felt for the fae. The sex was just sugar on top--even a single taste sweet and addicting--but the core of it, the heart of it, it filled Harry’s chest with a  _ need _ to be one with Eggsy, body, heart, and soul.

Once more, his mouth found Eggsy’s in a biting, desperate kiss, his tongue pushing its way in though there was little resistance to be had. One hand slipped beneath Eggsy’s neck to lift him up and deepen the kiss, and the other at his tailbone, pulling him in as Harry  _ ground  _ his cock down into Eggsy’s.

The fae’s answering cry was devoured by Harry, feeding on it, savouring it, endeavouring to claim more. He thrust again, hard and sharp, into the space between Eggsy’s cock and thigh, the beginnings of a proper fuck at the back of his mind.

“Tell me you have something we can use,” Harry said when he deigned, for the briefest moments, to part his lips from Eggsy’s.

“Yes,” Eggsy answered before pulling Harry back in for another kiss. It was only minutes later, after he’d taken his fill, that he added, “Yes, fuck. Gimme a sec.” 

He wriggled his way out of Harry’s grasp, laughing when Harry wouldn’t let him go, but managing all the same. He looked around the clearing, inspecting the plants before uttering a soft ‘aha!’ at a short plant with thick, fleshy, sword-like leaves. “Aloe,” he said by way of explanation as he tossed one of the leaves to Harry. As he walked back, he shed his pond-soaked trousers, giving Harry a lovely show of his cock bouncing as he made his way back into his arms.

Harry didn’t bother with feigned demureness or hesitance. Both of them clearly and explicitly wanted it, and by the gods, Harry wasn’t going to waste a minute of this by  _ angsting  _ over it. He dragged Eggsy back down onto the ground and onto his back and swallowed down his cock in one swift motion.

“Fuck!” Eggsy shouted, his hips coming off the ground of their own accord and thrusting up into Harry’s mouth. Harry hadn’t done this often enough to develop any sort of technique for it; all he knew was that he wanted to hear the cries of pleasure from his fae, and putting Eggsy’s cock in his mouth and sucking hard on it seemed like the best way to do it.

Eggsy’s hands found his head and his fingers curled into the strands of Harry’s wet hair. He used that as leverage to drag Harry’s head down as he thrust up, seeking more of the warmth and the light suction around his cock. He was lovely and thick in Harry’s mouth, long enough to make him gag on it, which Eggsy didn’t seem to notice if the way he was repeatedly fucking Harry’s face was any indication, but Harry wasn’t about to make him stop. The sounds he made were alone worth it.

The aloe was hard to navigate without the use of sight or the majority of his attention which was happily split between giving Eggsy the best head he could possibly give and enjoying the fruits of that labour, but the thought of his cock receiving the same sort of attention from Eggsy’s arse encouraged Harry to figure it out as soon as humanly possible.

He squeezed out the slimy filling of the leaf and did his best to break it apart and coat his fingers. Desperation urged him on because Eggsy's arse was right fucking  _ there _ .

That done, he grabbed Eggsy’s left thigh with his other hand and pushed it up and aside, giving him better access to the space between. Eggsy’s vicious facefucking slowed to nothing in expectation of what was to come next. He panted like he’d just run a four-minute mile, and Harry felt terribly pleased about that.

He circled one finger around the furled hole of his entrance, warning and teasing both, but when Eggsy moved his other leg aside, Harry took that as an invitation to press in. Above him, Eggsy gasped and arched his back, his grasp in Harry’s hair tightening painfully.

“Harry,” he moaned. That he pulled Harry down onto his cock was as much a reward for Harry as it was an involuntary motion. He sucked sharply to hear a gasp from Eggsy, and then did it once more for good measure. “Fuck,  _ Harry _ . Harry, I won’t last long. Come here. Come here.” Eggsy used Harry’s hair as leverage to pull him off his cock and upwards, and then his mouth was on Harry’s, right where it was supposed to be, and Harry couldn’t help a moan himself.

He pressed a second finger into Eggsy when the fae licked into his mouth and scissored them apart when he moaned. Fuck, but he was  _ perfect _ , and Harry once again couldn’t help but curse at himself for denying this for so long. He could have had Eggsy in  _ all _ the ways he wanted him if only he had pulled his head out of his arse a little earlier.

“Gods, I love you,” Harry mumbled into Eggsy’s mouth right in the middle of their kiss, and Eggsy laughed at him for it.

Eggsy pulled back so he could answer, “I love you, too.” The truth of his words was reflected in his eyes, and Harry’s heart thumped hard enough that he swore Eggsy could feel it against his own chest.

“May I?” he asked, thrusting his fingers in to clarify. Eggsy gasped and arched up, baring his throat which Harry took advantage of by putting his teeth in the hollow beneath his jaw where it met his neck and then bit down.

“Fuck!” Eggsy swore. His legs snapped tight around Harry and pulled him close, demanding, “Now, Harry, now!”

Harry laughed and wrenched his hand out from between them, but he delayed no further and lined his cock up with Eggsy’s hole, slathering himself with the leftover aloe still coating his hand as he did so. Eggsy hissed into the air and used his heels to urge Harry to push into him. Harry had no intention of denying him, of course, but he did ignore the heels pushing at his arse to hurry him along. Fuck, but he wanted to savour this, the tight sleeve of Eggsy’s hole closing around him, warm and perfect and everything Harry imagined it would be and more.

“Harry!” Eggsy whined, but Harry ignored him, sucking instead at his neck to distract him while he took his sweet fucking time to fill Eggsy up. To be honest, he wasn’t quite sure how he was managing to multitask because the feel of Eggsy’s arse around his cock was debilitating. 

“I’m not fucking porcelain, Harry. Come on and  _ fuck me _ !” the fae demanded, sounding more like a spoiled child than a hundred year old magical warrior on the end of his lover’s cock.

“I will, darling,” Harry promised. He kissed Eggsy again, mostly to shut him up and take as much attention off his slow push as he could because words were, right now, a celibate man’s game. The sounds he made and the push of his feet were about as much distraction as Harry could take until he bottomed out in Eggsy. Only then did he push himself onto his elbows to take a good look of the fae.

His entire face was flushed, his brow sweaty, and the green of his irises pushed to nearly nothingness by the dilation of his pupils. Harry stroked a lock of hair off of his forehead and bent down to peck his mouth.

“Beautiful,” he told Eggsy whose frenzied lust turned soft with a smile.

“You ain’t so bad yourself,” he answered, flicking Harry’s nose lightly. “Now, fuck me properly before I find someone else who will.” Harry rolled his eyes, but his grin was sure to give away his amusement.

He pulled out nearly as slowly as he pushed in and found it to be just as good going back the other way because Eggsy’s hole was clutching at him frantically, determined to keep him inside. 

“You feel wonderful,” Harry felt obligated to tell him.

“You don’t need to savour it,” Eggsy huffed, “you can have me any time you like.” Harry was probably far too pleased with that--and his men probably would too because Harry foresaw far too much time in his future spent in the bedroom than in the training yard--‘bedroom’ being entirely metaphorical though. Frankly, Harry would take Eggsy anywhere he could have him.

With Eggsy’s offer in mind, Harry rewarded him with a single sharp thrust that once more had him arching his back and scrabbling for a handhold. Harry guided his hands back into his hair and bent over to continue sucking on the mark he’d begun beneath his jaw. Once Eggsy had settled, he pulled out again and  _ thrust _ .

“Ah!” Eggsy cried out. His hands fisted so tightly, so quickly in Harry’s hair that it dislodged him from his neck. Harry corrected that immediately as he pulled out for a third time and then  _ shoved  _ himself back in with vicious force, bracing for the jolt to his scalp he now expected to come. He repeated the same motions over and over and over until he could establish a steady, if harsh rhythm and Eggsy had gone from surprised jerks to uninterrupted moaning.

Eggsy’s cries as Harry thoroughly fucked him into the forest floor were a thing of beauty. He wished he could bottle up the sound to listen to whenever he had the chance. If he thought Eggsy’s laugh was beautiful, well,  _ this _ . There were no words. The feel of his cock in Eggsy’s arse was almost secondary to the need to hear him come undone.

“Harry, I’m--I’m nearly--!” Eggsy gasped, which was ultimately Harry’s goal, but _not yet_ , so he abruptly stopped and earned himself a furious, “ _What the fuck_ \--?”

“Not yet, darling,” Harry practically pleaded into Eggsy’s livid face, before beginning again, desperately chasing his own orgasm as he staved off Eggsy’s  _ and _ constructed a sentence. Impossible multitasking again. He explained, “I want you in my mouth when you do. I want to taste you.”

Eggsy’s “Fuck!” was explosive and fervid. He slammed his head back against the ground and screwed his eyes shut. “Alright, hurry up.  _ Fuck _ !”

“Just a moment more, darling, let me-- _ ah _ !--let me hear you.” Regrettably, Harry had to close his own eyes, too overwhelmed with  _ everything _ .

“Fucking  _ hell _ , Harry,” Eggsy swore through gritted teeth. The hands still in his hair tightened painfully. “How the fuck are you this fantastic a shag when I know for a  _ fact _ you haven’t been with enough partners? Fuck, you feel so fucking good.”

Harry groaned and buried his face into Eggsy’s neck again, breathing him in, his scent calming the desperate buzzing underneath Harry’s skin.

“Gods, we’re never gonna get anything fucking done ever again, Rox is gonna fucking murder me because fuck if I’m ever letting you out of bed ever again. Fuck, come  _ on _ , Harry. Fuck me. Harder,  _ please _ !”

The sound of Eggsy pleading was apparently far too much for Harry to bear because his orgasm hit him so suddenly he could only manage a short yelp as the heady rush of pleasure filled him.

“Gods, yes. Yes, fuck, Harry,” Eggsy moaned, pleading, knowing that he was getting his soon.

The rhythmic clench of Eggsy around him was sure to be deliberate, milking him to hurry him along so that Eggsy could have his turn, the cheat. So Harry took only a good minute to finish and recover enough to pull out and slide down Eggsy’s body to take his cock into his mouth. He was exhausted, but it didn’t seem to matter as Eggsy took over, holding him still by his hair and fucking up into his mouth wildly.

“Harry, fuck--!” was all the warning he got before the best fucking taste on Earth filled Harry’s mouth. 

Eggsy was as sweet as nectar, and warm and lovely like the precious honey mead from Carsley Harry kept in his cellarette. Drinking him down was heaven and Harry only regretted that he got but a mouthful before Eggsy’s orgasm waned.

He was tempted to stay there, to continue suckling Eggsy until he’d filled up again and Harry could once more taste him. Fuck, he’d give up his command, his land, his title to stay at Eggsy’s feet and suck his cock for as long as he wanted, but Eggsy pulled him back up to kiss him, slow and deep, until the stars dancing behind Harry’s eyelids dissipated. 

It took a couple of moments more for the world to come back into focus. Harry let out a pleased sigh and buried his face back in Eggsy’s neck as he tried to catch his breath. He foresaw this as becoming his default position moving forward, and rightly so.

Eggsy’s hands, earlier punishing, now stroked gently down the back of his head. He could feel Eggsy chuckling silently beneath him.

“Alright?” Eggsy asked.

“I hope to the gods there’s no one nearby,” Harry mumbled, his voice muffled by Eggsy’s skin. Eggsy laughed.

“I’m afraid we might probably have the whole forest for an audience,” he said. Harry wasn’t sure if Eggsy was telling the truth or not. He probably was because, you know, no walls and they hadn't been trying very hard to be quiet (quite the opposite, really). Harry let out a sigh. It was far too late, he supposed, to actually try to find a bit of privacy, but so long as no one actually came up to them, he could pretend that it was just the two of them.

When he felt the slightest bit of his strength finally return, he wrestled himself onto his elbows so that he could look into the face of his fae and tell him in the sincerest possible tone he could muster, “I really do love you, Eggsy.”

Eggsy's smile was gentle and understanding, and Harry fell in love with him all over again. 

“‘Bout time you realized it."


End file.
